


Why?

by Lechuza



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, Crystal Braves - Freeform, F/M, Feels, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Sad Ending, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 14:46:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13437051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lechuza/pseuds/Lechuza
Summary: Alphinaud was silent in his feeling of uselessness; his thoughts going back to the day his companion informed him of what ailed her. The Warrior of Light was with child.





	Why?

Alphinaud sat uncomfortably on the plush sofa, his gloved hands clasped so tightly together that they were shaking. In the same room as the young Scion were Ser Aymeric, Count Fortemps and his sons, Artoirel, Emmanellain, and Haurchefant, all awaiting news from Tataru or the chirurgeon. The men did not speak, each for their own reason. Aymeric and Emmanellain knew not what to say, their words failing them. Artoirel preferred not breaking the silence that had settled, opting instead to listen for any sign of news that may come. Count Fortemp was lost in memories as he stared out the window and into the blizzard that had blown in. Haurchefant paced back and forth, his thoughts as wild as the howling blizzard outside and filled with worry. Alphinaud was silent in his feeling of uselessness; his thoughts going back to the day his companion informed him of what ailed her. The Warrior of Light was with child. 

A muffled scream of pain broke the suffocating silence, the men startled by it but even more when a frantic Tataru ran down the hall then back with towels. The Lalafell’s teary-eyed face worried the men, especially Count Fortemps, Haurchefant, and Alphinaud. Another scream reached their ears and then another after another until there was silence. They all hated the silence for they wanted news of their friend and her child, news that Haurchefant was about to acquire himself when the chirurgeon, followed by the midwife, walked into the room. 

“Is she alright?” Haurchefant immediately inquired, his tremendous worry obvious to even a blind man. 

“Yes,” the midwife answered, the men sighing in relief and smiling but that ceased when she hesitantly continued, “and no. My apologies, m’ lord, but there were complications.”

“Complications?” Alphinaud questioned, “what happened?!”

“The child,” she began, wiping the sweat off her brow, “the cord was wrapped around his neck. He did not survive.”

Without another word Haurchefant and Alphinaud rushed to the room, leaving Ser Aymeric, Count Fortemps and his two other sons to speak with the hired healer and midwife. Alphinaud was right behind the taller elezen, but when he reached the threshold of the room he froze. Past Haurchefant he saw his friend in her bed and sobbing uncontrollably whilst she cradled her dead newborn in her arms. Tataru wiped her tears away as she offered what little comfort she could, not seeing the two males who made their way inside. 

Haurchefant was the first to speak, “My. . . friend, I am so sorry.” His voice cracked, the knight heartbroken from seeing the woman he fancied so emotionally wrecked and unable to make things right. 

A whisper passed the weeping woman’s lips, a whisper that grew louder the more it was repeated. “LEAVE,” she cried, her voice hoarse, “please, I wish to be alone.” Never had she screamed and begged to anyone, but the circumstances pushed her to do so. 

“You both heard her, she wants to be alone,” Tataru spoke up before either male could protest and soon ushered them both away, closing the door behind her. The Lalafell did not go far, opting to stay right outside the door in case she was needed. 

Within the room where she had spent hours in labor, the Warrior of Light continued to weep. She caressed her still baby, begging for an answer from Hydealyn on why she had to lose her first child before he even had the chance to live. Bloodshot eyes glanced over him, seeing his dark skin and blonde hair only to cry out harder. He looked like the Crystal Brave who sired him, a man who she had loved and given herself fully to, a man she hated yet could not disperse the love that she still held for him.

“Why,” she wept, “why Ilberd, why?”


End file.
